Alegria
by MissionVao307
Summary: Mass Effect/ Star Wars K.O.T.O.R My first crossover. An old exile gets mixed in with Alliance Navy Brass in hopes to find her daughter. -M for later chapters-
1. Introduction

Disclaimer! I DO NOT own characters referenced or used in this fan-fiction. The only original characters in this series are Seren, Trista, and possibly her late husband (not yet named.)

_-Vedo una santilla come di lucidare -_

The frustration, the pain, all of the troubles get sucked into a tiny little vortex pressed to warmth, a mothers bosom. Where the tiny creature was safe. Where nothing could hurt her…

-_I see a spark of life shining_-


	2. Doodle

"Serena!" She could barely hear herself over the chaos, Telos was being attacked, and she had to find her daughter.

A fit of coughs fell over her and it took her a couple of moments to re-collect herself.

"Serena!" Her voice was drowned out by the sound of another sonic boom, another cluster of fighters broke into the atmosphere to make their hell somehow worse.

A small, broken form lay charred, meters before the woman, and a shock of panic struck her heart. It was more painful than anything she'd ever experienced before. But it couldn't be…

Once she got to the child, the wishes she had been repeating in her mind had regrettably, became reality.

The girl was a couple years younger than Serena, but nonetheless, the sorrow that she was hoping to avoid filled her body, and she fell to her knees by the child.

"Mommy?" The girl sobbed, her eyes without focus and her face covered in scratches, pieces of metal embedded in her forehead and cheeks. There was a form beside the girl, the woman was charred beyond recognition.

"I'm here," she spoke to the young girl, lifting her off the ground and into her arms, the girl was strangely cold.

"Where'd you go?" the child whispered, her voice inaudible, but the woman knew the way her lips formed syllables, and her heart wrenched in her chest.

"Had to," she thought. "…find help, I'm here now…"

"Don't leave me again, mommy…" the girl begged, her voice once again drowned out, by a blast of missiles and shredded metal.

She blocked the child from the blast, feeling a shard slice into her back, a couple in her shoulders and one distinct pain shot through her upper back as one broke through her shoulder blade and out the other side.

Her tears disintegrated from the heat.

"I wont, I promise, I'm here for you…" The girls blood trickled over her protectors arms and soaked her shirt.

"…tired…" she murmured, her eyelids drooping, covering her blind eyes.

"Shhh, sleep Doodle, it'll all be over soon…"

"…love….you…" and the child was gone, limp, her body given to the force.

But the only thing that kept her from crying was the knowledge that the young girl had her mother till the end. Or so she thought, but what she didn't find comfort in;

_How did she know her nick-name was Doodle?_

Sorry it's so short guys, I'll try to make the chapters longer from now on.

Oh yeah, and the excessive use of 'she' annoyed me too, sorry about that, couldn't give up the name so early.


	3. White Phantom

"Why can't I go?" A normally soft spoken, frail voice screamed, the soft white barriers of her forearms crossed securely over her chest.

"Because I _said_ so." Trista's voice raised multiple octaves with her daughters, their voices locked in a battle of pitch.

"That's not a real reason!" Serena retorted, her fingernails digging into the barriers laid over her chest, nearly drawing blood.

"Well it's my reason, and I'm not going to hear another word!"

Serena's voice dropped as she heard the biased verdict of the single juror.

"You are _not_ going off planet and _that_ is _final_." Trista's last syllable was cut off by a swift '_BANG_' as her daughter's door was slammed in her face, followed by a powerful.

"_I HATE YOU!_"

_~Come un assalto di gioia~_

_- - - - - - -_

Trista jolted awake, her brow slick with a cool sweat.

_Maybe, just maybe if I'd let her go…_

No, she couldn't allow herself to think like that, about three dozen people got off the planet alive, maybe, just _ maybe_ Serena could've been one.

Eight years passed, every day moving at a set pace. Trista followed a set schedule, keeping up with each day and all of its wonders. She would wake, think of her daughter, get a quick shower, eat a quick breakfast and get to work, quickly. She worked for the council as a diplomat, nothing about work was quick.

But something was different, somehow.

Trista had read the file, over and over, gazing at the picture within the file but nothing readied her for _him_, Commander Preston Shepard.

The navy photo of him had to have been retouched, not even the photograph portrayed the man's beauty. He had dark hair that seemed too long for the navy to allow, it was ruffled, messy, but added a sort of unhealthy attraction to him. His hair grazed over his eyebrows, which lead to his eyes. There was something unnatural to them; maybe the ruthlessness she'd read about got through to his eyes. They were a strange amber brown shade, with hints of crimson within and around the iris. He had a military build. His stance was stiff, purely business. She glanced lower, at his hands resting at his sides. Empty left hand. Could she blame herself for checking?

Commander Shepard was standing before Garrus, a C-Sec officer. His fingers curled into his palms as Garrus spoke, Saren, the spectre was being accused of murder, so far Garrus hadn't found anything to convict Saren and the irritation was apparent on Shepard's face.

Trista was brought back from her wonderments as she tripped over a keeper, busy working, as she should've been. She caught herself before she tumbled to the floor and glance from the corner of her eyes at the commander.

Was that… a smile?

The commander's eyes shifted from Garrus and she felt her mouth loose moisture. The milliseconds moved like hours and Trista caught herself chanting quietly to herself;

"There is no passion…" And she rushed to work.

- - - - - - -

Time moved like frozen banthas and Trista was only done confirming three dozen case files when her doors slid open. She glanced up from behind her translucent monitor and her heart leapt in her chest.

"Hello ma'am, you're Humanity's diplomat here, am I correct?" His voice was just as or more appealing than his looks. His nearly inhuman eyes searched her features. She didn't realize she was staring for longer than mere seconds when he arched an eyebrow.

She shook herself, "Y-Yes."

"Can you tell me where flux is?"

"First time on the Citadel?" She pondered softly, forcing herself to speak.

"Is it really all that hard to hide?" He sighed, crossing his arms.

She spun her monitor so he could see his file.

"Oh, so you've been stalking me?" He seemed slightly amused, light seeming to alight in his dark eyes.

"Not so much as studying." She stood and extended her hand to the Commander. "Trista White, it's nice to meet you." She greeted him cordially.

"Commander Preston Shepard. The pleasure is all mine." He smiled brightly, the smirk she witnessed in the tower was merely a shadow compared to the man's smile now. She lost herself for a moment, nodding softy. She shook herself back to reality when he released her hand.

"Flux…if you're coming from the markets then it's on the left. If you're coming from the clinic it's on the right. There's a big huge sign, you can't really miss it."

"Y'know, I'm really bad at directions…do you have time to show me?" He unleashed the full power of his smile on her, and she sighed, glancing at the case files she had to check on. Only a couple hundred dozen left.

"Uh, sure." She bit her bottom lip and powered down her account, motioning for him to follow her. She guided him to the markets and they walked together to the stairs leading to Flux, talking about Nihlus' murder.

"So are you coming in with me?" Preston finally asked as Trista turned away, stopping her dead in her tracks.

"Me?" She pointed dumbly at herself and blinked questionably.

"Yeah, oh c'mon, you deserve it." He laughed.

"I dunno, if my boss-"

"Honestly? Do any of his stuck up friends party at Flux?" He pressed, arching his eyebrows.

Something behind him caught her attention. There was a seemingly drunk man behind him, with what looked like a pistol raised and pointing at the back of Preston's head.

"Preston!" She threw one of her hands up and the assailant flew back into the wall, making decent cracks in the cement. The pistol fired, but hardly found its mark when it hit the ceiling.

Preston spun around, Assault Rifle ready, witnessing the man as he was knocked unconscious. "How-"

"Ex jedi, long story." She stressed the 'o' in long, shaking her head.

"Well, you can explain while we drag him to C-Sec."

_Oh, for Force's sake!_

- - - - - - -

"So this man just walked up and attempted to kill you?" The C-Sec officer questioned for the fifth time…

"Yes, but Miss White saw him first and knocked him back, he hit his head pretty hard on the wall." He half lied, glancing oddly at Trista.

_Great, he thinks I'm a freak. _

"I see, well Diplomat White, I trust you will have a report in by the end of the day."

"Yes sir." She murmured, her eyes still on the floor. "Now if you'll excuse me," She nodded silently to Preston and the officer and started to walk toward the elevator.

"Miss White?" The C-Sec officer called after her, she turned around to face him, her irritation shown on her sleeve.

"Yes?"

"What were you doing at Flux?"

"She was escorting me." Preston interrupted, taking the heat off of Trista. "I interrupted her at work and asked if she'd take me. I was lost, you understand."

"I see." He nodded, this time getting the incident report ironed out. "Thank you for your time Commander Shepard, Miss White."

- - - - - - -

"Hey, wait!" Preston called after Trista as she stomped through the elevator doors.

"_l'OH la mia qualità_!" Trista groaned, still irate about the day's occurrences.

"I'm going to pretend that I know what that means…" Preston murmured as he shoved himself between the closing elevator doors.

"What is it Commander Shepard?" Trista sighed softly, shaking her head as she rubbed her temples.

"You never explained why you got exiled…" He reminded her, gazing at her curiously.

"Non importa…" She laughed softly, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter."

"What language is that? It's not alien…"

"Right, it's Italian, y'know? The dead language, one from Earth." She shrugged. "It's no big deal, my father and his parents spoke it…"

"You know a dead language!" Preston seemed impressed.

"Two…" she corrected, trying to seem nonchalant.

"What?"

"Spanish…" She murmured, relieved to get him off the subject of her exile.

"Oh, wow. Say something!"

"Siete così stupidi." She muttered, rubbing her temples as her headache multiplied.

"Awesome…" He gazed at her like she was the best thing since active transport. "Hey, did I hear 'stupid' in there?"

"Nope." She quickly amended, smirking softly as he proved the statement.

There was a long silence as he squeezed himself into the elevator and pressed the button that brought the elevator to the Presidium. "You still haven't told me about your exile." He brought the conversation back from the dead…er _murder_.

"No."

"What?"

"It means the same in both languages." She walked through the door as they opened.

"Why not?" He seemed offended.

"Because! I've got fifty more cases to work on and I have to file a stupid incident report because of your big head!" She explained a few octaves above the necessary level.

His offended visage gave way to amusement, and it made Trista wonder why.

"You're blaming _me_ for nearly getting _killed_?"

"What if I am? You could've been busy talking to Garrus and working on getting your scumbag into prison but _no_, you had to go and find _Force knows _what kinds of assorted pleasures at a bar!"

"You're blaming _me_ for some luniac nearly blowing my brains out?" He didn't seem to be able to wrap his mind around that concept.

"Luniac?" The word managed to make Trista laugh.

"Maniac slash lunatic." He explained listlessly.

She raised her hand to cover the genuine smile that the stupid gesture forced from her.

He caught it and grinned, knowing he'd won. "One drink and I'll leave you alone." He pushed, finally getting her to nod.

Truth was, she didn't want him to leave her alone.

- - - - - -

"Cool, so you were in the war too?" Preston seemed amazed, his strangely colored eyes locked on hers.

"Yeah," She sighed, not too proud of that particular fact.

"What color was your lightsaber?" Came his inevitable inquiry.

"I had two…" She murmured, shrugging. "One was white. The other was silver."

"Two…why?" He mused, arching his eyebrows at her in confusion. "I mean, isn't one powerful enough?"

"One _is_ powerful enough for a Jedi." She smiled softly, but resisted the smirk. "It's kind of a pride thing. It strikes fear into the enemy, twice the killing power, y'know? It's the same concept with dual-bladed sabers and duel wielding pistols."

"Oh, a white blade. That's rare right?" He knew he sounded like a moron.

"Yeah." She chuckled softly, sipping at her water. "Only a couple like that."

"White…" He thought. Long and hard, and then remembered.

- - - - -

A darkly cloaked figure stood in the distance, just above the waterfall on Dxun. One couldn't see her face; it was shadowed by the hood resting over her head. The only skin visible of the jedi was her hands, but only because the gloves were ripped and burned into pieces that barely held onto her skin.

She just observed, watched the battle, _the massacre_. _Her_ massacre, Revan would be proud.

"Jedi!" A gruff, familiar voice called from the shadows behind her. His answer was one of few words. Her lightsabers ignited and the colorless blades found every member of his squad, sending them to the freezing depths of the waterfall's end.

Within seconds the man was on his knees before her, the cold, shallow water soaking his pants.

"Pray, pitiful creature." Was all she said, not before the wind blew her hood back. The woman gazing at her victim could only recently be called a woman, she was barely fifteen. She gifted the man in front of her his life, but not before she left him with something to remember him by. She left him bleeding, clinging to the rocks just before the edge of the waterfall.

- - - - - -

Preston chewed the inside of his cheek and his fingers grazed deep perpendicular scars hidden just under his ribs. Scars that came from the "White Phantom's" blades.

The 'Phantom' that sat just before him.

"I did a lot of things back then I'm not proud of…" Trista trailed off, recognizing the look in his eyes. She blinked away the regret and stood. She turned away from the Commander, and made her way out of Flux, and this time …he let her go.


End file.
